#-because others depend on him and even if he hates it he has to be responsible for their sake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coleeeitgysn1infi · 2 days ago

Text

GIYUU X SANEMI SHIP CHARTS❕

(Tw: horrible grammar & spelling, teeny tiny bit of nsfw, not that understandable, some bad takes. And I'm sorry!)

❕

I don't like this opinion that the fandom has and i think they're misinterpreting the character, in my opinion this should be interpreted like this.

First image:

1. Big/little spoon:

• Giyuu is the big spoon while Sanemi the little spoon. Giyuu is more likely to big spoon because of his truma and what he hates. Not even talking about smut or anything, this is all In general. Giyuu would big spoon even when they are sleeping or cuddling together. Why? A sign of protection. He rather protect then be protected, because people died protected him, his sister and his best friend, Tsutako and Sabito died protecting and that made Giyuu hate having to be protected, now he protectes his loved ones because he can't afford to lose someone else while protecting him, he hates being useless as well, so in order not to be protected, protected and not be useless, he will big spoon in the relationship. In Giyuu's head, anything can happen, when they sleep at night, Giyuu would big spoon, because what if an intruder broke in? What it they try to kill them? Possible or not, Giyuu would big spoon to be the closer target, so Sanemi doesn't die in his presence. Dying is one of Giyuu's top "idgf" list, so if he doesn't care about dying to protect Sanemi.

• About Sanemi, he spent his whole life protecting, him small spooning is the better thing for him. He may hate being vulnerable and showing emotions, but that's what he needs, him taking a break from everything is what he needs, and Giyuu can provide that for him, he can help him relax and not be always on alarm and acutely feel comfortable enough to express his feelings, Giyuu is litterly the perfect person for that. All the people Sanemi protected died, no matter how hard he tried, His mother, his siblings, Genya and Masachika died because he couldn't protect them. Now, if he had to protect Giyuu, they would always be worried, always be alarmed, and nothing would have changed from their trauma and the cycle would be repeateded all over again, both of them would always be on edge and will acutely be really unhealthy and toxic for them. Giyuu big spooning and Sanemi little spooning is what's for the best, both would be at ease, both would trust each other, both would be happy, calm and more relaxed after so long.

2. Clothes sharing:

• They both share clothes if they need to, they are the same size. 3 cm is not 3 inches people, and so if Giyuu is 3 cm shorter? How can that mean that Giyuu is less of a man as the rest?

3. Extrovert & introvert:

• Sanemi isn't that extroverted either, if anything, his Omniverted. What's Omniverted. What is an omnivert person?

• Omnivert. Definition. A person who exhibits qualities of both introversion and extroversion, and can flip into either depending on their mood, context, and goals. A person who can feel intensely introverted or extroverted in different situations, with preferences changing frequently and drastically.

• With this say, Sanemi is either introverted or extroverted depending how he feels, what situation he is in. We can say Sanemi is not that extroverted, because he doesn't seem that pleased when his around a lot of people and doesn't even talk much about anything but his duty. Sanemi is somewhere in the middle of that.

• For Giyuu, there are 4 types of introvert, his a thinking type introvert. He doesn't have the social type, not the anxious type, not the restrained type. As kid, he might have had with the social or anxious type, but as a grown adult his different.

4. Confession:

• Giyuu I the type of guy who will confess the second he gets the right chance, while Sanemi waits to be confessed. Giyuu is canonly a straight forward guy, if he has the guts to insult Sanemi out of no where, he has the guts to confess to him out of no where.

• While Sanemi, is a person who probably fears the possibly of being rejected, so he will just sit somewhere and pray that the person he likes will confess to him, cos there is no way Sanemi will take the chance of being rejected and humiliated. Sanemi probably will take a longer time to realize if he likes someone, while Giyuu would notice most likely immediately when he likes someone. "Giyuu fell first & Sanemi fell harder." that's my quote, meaning, Giyuu is the one who fell in love first with Sanemi, while Sanemi fell in love after a lot of emotional challenges and doubt.

5. Bugs...:

• Really? Screaming about bugs? Giyuu is the one killing it with a shoe, Sanemi let's it outside and will probably blind Giyuu when he sees him to try and kill the poor thing- (canon, I was the bug.)

6. Driving skills:

• In my opinion, Giyuu is a more carful driver then Sanemi, but Sanemi has more experience on driving. Probably because in modern au, Giyuu would be driven around by Sakonji, Tsutako and Sabito or would have taken the bus while Sanemi learned how to drive at a young age and drive his siblings around a lot.

7. Cooking skills:

• Yeah th cooking one is right. To be fair, I meet some people who thought Sanemi can't cook and Giyuu can- so I highlighted this.

8. Protectiveness:

• Both are overprotective, both in different ways. Sanemi is more of mama bear protective because he had to take care of his 6 younger siblings and was like a second mother to them. Sanemi's character is a lot like a "older sister" type, because of his background and story, personality as well.

Here is a post that relates to this and the first one.

9. Dating experience:

• Both don't have relationship experience. Especially Sanemi since in the light novel is said that Sanemi also doesn't care about romance and doesn't care about girls founding over him if he become a hashira when Masachika teased him. It's canon that he doesn't understand romance either, not being in able to tell that your own best friend likes someone while litterly Muichiro himself could tell while Sanemi couldn't. It's funny.

• About Giyuu's romance, his a natural, so he probably would know much more about relationships then Sanemi. Comme on, having an idea of how to befriend Sanemi by making him something he loves and also having flowers on his imagination, we can agree Giyuu is at least more romantic then Sanemi, since he can also understand when he is in love or not.

10. Awkwardness level:

• Both are awkward in different ways, Giyuu awkward with words, Sanemi just hating the feeling of awkwardness since people scold him a lot about his behavior.

11. Jealous level:

• Giyuu is canonly the jealous type. When he got jealous that Tanjiro started using different breathing styles, the way he envies the other hashiras, Sanemi and Tengen for example, when he said to Sanemi himself how he envies his "simple mind". (that part was hilarious, you can not disagree).

• Sanemi isn't really the jealous type, he just hates unfairness. Giyuu is mostly likely to be jealous when Someone that shows interested in Sanemi, then Sanemi being jealous of someone that shows interested in Giyuu. Is that Giyuu doesn't trust Sanemi, he doesn't like it when someone other then him is interested in him. Sanemi trusts Giyuu in this too, so he doesn't care at all and has more important things to deal with.

12. Sexuality:

• About their sexuality, my head canon is that Giyuu is demisexual, why? Because I can see Giyuu loving someone about their personality not their physical looks. It's not like Pansexual where they love everyone, Giyuu doesn't not love everyone, he has to know more about you, to love you. For example if Sanemi became a woman, Giyuu wouldn't care at all, and nothing about his preferences or feelings would change, he will love Sanemi the same, not more or less. I don't like the HC people make of Giyuu that his Gay, it doesn't match at at tbh, and doesn't fit him at all, his demisexual and you really don't have much proof that his not. Because Giyuu wasn't all over Sanemi just because he was a man, if Sanemi was a women from the beginning, Giyuu would still want to befriend Sanemi, and if they where canon, Giyuu would still love Sanemi, man or not.

• I think Sanemi is bisexual with preference for women in my opinion. Why? Because women where the one people that where gently with him, unlike man like his father which he had a lot of them who reminded Sanemi of his father, even Tengen is just as Intimating like Sanemi 's father. Plus, Sanemi looked up to women, like his mother, and Kanae who touch reminded him of his mother (light novel), but the man who where actually just as gentle with him where Masachika and Master. Giyuu is on his list as well, AT THE END of the manga. If they where canon, Giyuu would be patient with Sanemi, wouldn't force him on anything and acutely would build a comfortable and safe space for Sanemi. Which makes our boy bisexuals over all.

Second image:

1. How they met:

• "When Giyuu became a hashira" ⁉️ yeah, this person doesn't know much. "When Sanemi became a hashira" is the correct quote idk why they didn't know that.

2. The relationship in a sentence:

• Giyuu falls in love first not "too easy", and if anyone of them was crazy about the other, is Giyuu crazy about Sanemi!! Idk why people always confuse this, Giyuu is the one who what's to befriend Sanemi, Giyuu is the one who wants to make him his favorite food, and Giyuu is the one who likes him! Romantically or platonically, doesn't matter.

3. Talkitive & Listener:

• Their both at the listerner category in my opinion, just Sanemi little more in the middle. You can't see Sanemi starting a convo about something, people come to talk to him, he doesn't go to talk to people.

• But Giyuu, he is the type of person who starts conversations, when he finds something you like, he will mostly talk about it.

5. Superior/equal/inferior:

• Sanemi views both of them as equal, but Giyuu is more complicated.

• Giyuu even though he thinks he isn't worthy of a hashira, he doesn't think his beneath anyone's shoes, he still says what he wants, does what he wants and doesn't carenif your more superior then him or not.

6. Flustered/chill

• Sanemi is the flustered one in the relationship, he gets easily embarrassed and awkward, and he tries his hardest not to be in these sections.

• While Giyuu is chill with anything, he couldn't care less in reality.

7. Life of the party - What is joy:

• Both are in "what is joy" group.

• Sanemi himself doesn't see the point in being happy when there are demons going around killing innocent lives. It's said in the light novel, the only time his joyful is when his training with Giyuu in the Hashira Training Arc, he is seen smiling when fighting with Giyuu, but when his training with Obanai or Muichiro, his not.

• Giyuu himself doesn't see the point either, but he doesn't have as big of a hatred in demons like Sanemi does. His stuck in the past and he can't move on from it. The only time we see him smile is either when his eating his favorite meal - miso soup with salmon and daikon - or when his thinking about Sanemi!! Both of them here are the same in this scenario, both find lots of joy in their favorite food and when they interact! Sanemi may hate Giyuu's guts at the beginning but we see them smile at each other so many times as time passes by.

8. Forgets errands and chores/does all the errands:

• Sanemi does all the errands/chores while Giyuu forgets. Sanemi grew up cleaning up after his siblings and father, he also likely cooked for his siblings when their mother was away at work.

• Giyuu was always cleaned after, his sister most likely did everything around the house and Sakonji as well. We also see Giyuu's estate has no furniture, so he probably doesn't clean at all so he doesn't bother to get anything but a bed to sleep on. And he either eats out or the Kakushi do everything else for him.

9. Changes:

• Sanemi most likely makes changes happen and Giyuu keeps things simple.

10. Trust:

• Giyuu has bigger trust then Sanemi, he also is a person that has no secrets so he trusts Sanemi the same.

• Sanemi is more difficult, he doesn't trust people easily and it took a while for him to trust Giyuu, even though now he trusts him, Sanemi still doesn't tell him all his secrets, like Giyuu does with him.

11. Emotional openness:

• Even tho neither of them are emotionally open, Giyuu is the one who's more emotionally open that Sanemi, because like I said 100 times, Sanemi hates showing his vulnerable emotions. Giyuu is the one who his more open about his feelings as well, his more open emotionally too.

12. Affection:

Giyuu is wayy more affectionate than Sanemi is. But both have almost the same way of showing it.

Giyuu's love language: (ranked)

- buying gifts

- acts of service

- physical touch

- Quality time

- words of affirmation

Sanemi's love language:

- acts of service

- Quality time

- secretly likes physical touch

- gift giving

- words of affirmation

these are the 5 type of love language and how I rank them for Giyuu and Sanemi

13. Emotional needs:

• Sanemi is 20% Giyuu 35-40%

14. Sharing generosity:

• Sanemi is really careful on what he shares, and without thinking about it, he won't share anything.

• For Giyuu, if he has to share something he doesn't really care about, he doesn't have a problem with it, other wise, he doesn't like sharing stuff that he cares about and are meant for him.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Note: I resaid some stuff I had already posted on my other blogs, but I added them here as well because not everyone read those posts. I will be adding them here.

mine: 1 2 3

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

My explanations might have been confusing but it make my explanations clear I made my own Giyuu x Sanemi ship chart!

This is my GiyuSane chart IN MY OPINION!😭

(im gonna post these Sepretly)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Note 2: This is all I could gather so far 😭😭😭 Another note, ik my takes are confusing and my bad grammar can make it even more confusing. Even I myself am confused, but this is definitely one of my longest post so I was a little impatient when writing everything. If you don't agree with MY TAKES, then idk girly, you do you, if you want to add anything, pls do, I'd appreciate it!!

#kny #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #giyusane #giyuusane #sanegiyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #giyuu x sanemi #giyuu and Sanemi #gysn #sngy #ship chart #giyusane ship chart #hot takes #unpopular opinion

38 notes · View notes

dazaih · 2 days ago

Text

wingman - luke skywalker x reader

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

chapter four -> cloud city ii

your university roommate han solo finds a rival (and love interest) in student council president leia skywalker, but both of them are too stubborn to admit that they have feelings for each other. luckily, you and her twin brother, luke, devise a plan to get the two of them to spend more time together. challenges arise, however, when you start to develop a crush on him.

chapter warnings: drug and alcohol usage, violence, blood, injuries. if you wish to skip the fight scene, scroll down to the text divider and begin with the line “You were going to be fine.” i personally don’t think there’s anything incredibly graphic (especially considering the nature of star wars lol) but i never want my stories to cause stress or discomfort for anyone. please take care of yourself!

a/n: incorporating a lil bit of canon content into this au and introducing some plot! i’ve been really nervous to post this chapter because of the slight tonal shift but hopefully you don’t hate it lol <3

By the time the band ended their set, you were sweating, feeling parched and slightly sore with a small headache from enthusiastically moving your body to the songs. Han must have felt similarly, because he pointed to his breast pocket and flashed you a grin.

“Cigarette?” he asked, gesturing to the door.

“I’ll go with you since you’re so drunk,” you slurred, only slightly better off.

“Chewie?”

Chewie shook his head, pointing to the bar. He wanted another drink, probably so he could match the level you and Han were at. With that, the two of you made your way outside, Lando eyeing you as you left. Something about the look he gave you made you feel a little on edge, but you chalked it up to the tensions you’d experienced earlier in the night. Han led you to the alley on the side of the building, lighting his cigarette and exhaling the smoke with a sigh of relief.

“Lando pours ‘em strong,” he remarked, closing his eyes, “Always has, but man. I’m a little fucked up.”

“Well, that’s what we came here for,” you said, sitting down on the sidewalk next to where he was standing.

The two of you stayed there for a bit, a comfortable silence playing out as Han smoked. All things considered, you’d had a good time so far. It had been a while since you’d gone to a nice venue like this. You leaned your head against his leg, closing your eyes and sighing as you soaked in the city’s soundscape. Being here still felt surreal sometimes, but you were thankful to have friends who made you feel so grounded.

“Han Solo,” a voice rang out, piercing the tranquility the two of you had created out in the alleyway.

You didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but Han sure did. He immediately tensed, but didn’t put his cigarette out.

“What a surprise,” your roommate replied, though you caught an ounce of distress in his drunken words, “Good to see you, Fett.”

“Wish I could say the same,” the man said, finally close enough to see. The streetlight illuminated his features only slightly, but he was strong, with a stern expression that made you feel uneasy.

“Can we help you?” you asked, standing up from your spot on the sidewalk. When Han gently nudged your hand, however, you shrank back against the wall slightly.

“You probably can’t,” the man—Fett, Han had called him—replied coldly, meeting your eyes. This guy had to be at least thirty, and you tried to sort through your scrambled thoughts to figure out what he could want with Han.

“He’s right,” Han agreed, surprising you, “You should go inside. Find Chewie.”

“No,” Fett said sternly, grabbing your wrist as you turned to leave, “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t let you do that. You just stand there and watch.”

“Watch what?” you asked, stomach starting to churn. You didn’t like this.

“That all depends on him.”

“Listen, Boba. I told the Hutts that I’d pay them back once I graduated. I’ll pay them double, even. I just have to take another semester.”

“Jabba doesn’t think you’ll graduate at all,” the man replied, inching closer to Han, “And he doesn’t give a shit about your education, anyway. He’s been generous enough to offer you your old job back, though. He’d take the money you owe him out of your paycheck, and you’d have to work for him until it was all paid off.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Han said, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing it in Fett’s face, “I don’t deal anymore, and he knows that. You know that.”

“I’m here to give you another chance to make the reasonable choice,” he warned, his fierce tone contradicting his words. This was a threat, you realized.

“No,” he said, putting his cigarette out against the wall and letting it drop to the ground, “I can’t. They’ll kick me out of here if I get caught smuggling drugs, Boba. Just tell him that I’m graduating soon, and I’ll be able to land a pretty nice job with an engineering degree, so he doesn’t need to—“

Boba didn’t let him finish before he punched him square in the jaw, Han falling back against the wall from the force of it. Immediately, you turned to run inside, but you were quickly grabbed and restrained by another man. You watched in horror as a few more people emerged from the other side of the alleyway, walking towards your group. Reinforcements, you supposed. If you weren’t so frightened, you’d find humor in the fact that Han was apparently enough trouble to warrant such a sizable crowd.

Han braced himself against the cool brick, managing to muster enough energy and coordination in his drunken state to land a hit on his opponent. Boba faltered slightly, but the attack only served to piss him off even more.

“Hold him still,” he ordered, and two of the men he was with each grabbed one of Han’s arms, forcing him to stand upright. Your stomach sank when Boba pulled out something shiny from his pocket, and when he fitted the metal onto his hand, you lurched forward, trying to come to your friend’s rescue. When the men pulled you back, you continued to struggle, resulting in a harsh blow being delivered to your ribs.

“Kid, ‘s alright. Don’t get yourself into any trouble,” Han mumbled, his speech slightly obscured by the blood pouring from his upper lip.

“You’re gonna kill him,” you cried as Boba admired the brass knuckles on his hand.

“Last chance, Solo,” he said, ignoring you, “You can either repay your debt by coming back to work for Jabba, or you can repay it with your life right now.”

“You don’t understand,” Han hissed, almost collapsing but being jerked back upwards by the men restraining him, “I can’t transport that shit anymore. I’ve worked too hard to get here. But I can still pay him. Hell, I’ll even do triple. Don’t be a fool—“

That was the wrong answer, it seemed. You screamed as Boba delivered the first punch with the brass knuckles to Han’s ribs, helplessly thrashing against your captors.

“Lando will come looking for us,” you yelled, still trying to fight back against the men holding you, “He saw us walk out here.”

“I paid Lando a hundred bucks to stay inside and mind his business,” Boba replied coolly, hitting Han again, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Realizing the direness of your situation, you shoved your heel as hard as you could into the foot of the man to your right, his grip loosening on you just enough to allow you to break free for a moment. Without thinking twice, you pushed your finger into the eye of the man on your left, causing him to reel back in pain.

You ran as far as you could to the end of the alleyway, trying to at least make sure your cry for help was heard before your captors inevitably caught up to you. You almost made it, and when your escape attempt was thwarted by one of the men pulling you backwards, you screamed as loudly as you could. The consequence of this was that a piece of cloth was shoved into your mouth, effectively gagging you. Tears streamed down your face as you struggled again, trying to resist being dragged back to the scene of your closest friend being beaten within an inch of his life. The man whose eye you’d injured welcomed you back into the group by throwing you onto the concrete harshly, and you let out a deep wheeze of pain.

“Not worth it, kid,” Han pleaded, his voice strained, “It’ll be okay. ‘S okay—“

He was cut off by Boba gripping his hair harshly and delivering a knee to his stomach, causing him to gasp and cough up a small amount of blood.

“What a fitting end for you, Han Solo. Getting the shit beat out of you in the back of an alley while those rich brats you’ve tried so hard to fit in with don’t even care enough to come see what all the commotion is about. You were better off as one of us.”

Han said nothing—he couldn’t speak anymore, you realized. Between the copious amounts of alcohol he’d consumed and the violence he’d endured, it was a miracle that he was even still conscious. You watched helplessly as Boba continued to hit him, only using the brass knuckles on occasion, making you realize that he was intentionally dragging it out. It was audacious to believe that no one would catch him, but Boba had convinced even you that no one was coming to your rescue at this point. The weight of the realization was suffocating, and you weren’t sure if the gag choking you or the deep despair you felt was what caused more tears to escape you.

You couldn’t watch any longer. You looked off into the distance, trying to focus on something else as you were forced to listen to Han’s pained grunts and gasps. Your vision was slightly blurred from crying, but when a familiar silhouette appeared at the end of the alleyway, you felt relief wash over you. It was Chewie. He’d come to look for you.

You briefly fretted over him meeting a fate similar to your own, but you realized quickly that he wasn’t alone. None other than Luke Skywalker was in tow, his teammates still following him.

“Hey!” he shouted, racing towards you all. You tried to warn him about the ferocity of your opponents, tried to tell him that this was no normal bar squabble—but it was too late. As soon as he had breached the group, Boba turned sharply, punching him in the face with his bare hand. Luke hissed in pain, but to your surprise, swung back with enough force to make Boba stumble. The other man grunted and raised his other fist—the one with the brass knuckles—and you tried to scream out a warning, your cries muffled by the rag in your mouth. Surprising you further, however, Luke dodged his attack, throwing him off balance enough to shove him to the side harshly and rush towards you. In his tracks, his teammates picked up his slack, and there, in the alley of Cloud City, a true fight broke out. The men who had been keeping watch over you ran to defend their leader, and Luke made his way to you.

“Call the police!” Luke shouted, kneeling down in front of you. Blood was pouring from his nose and his lip, but he didn’t seem to mind as he pulled the rag from your mouth. You coughed, choking slightly at the sudden change in pressure. His hand cupped your cheek immediately, thumb gently wiping away stray tears from your face. You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline getting to your head, but in that moment, you felt incredibly cared about in a way that was all too genuine for the type of relationship you and Luke had.

“It’s okay,” he told you, seemingly much more sober than he’d been inside, “I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna get help.”

You looked past him to see Chewie and his teammates fighting off Fett’s group, Han having collapsed onto the ground without the support of his captors holding him up.

“Tell Lando to get out here now!” Luke yelled again, and one of his teammates raced towards the bar.

“They paid Lando a hundred bucks to stay inside,” you recited, your head pounding.

“Okay? I’ll pay him two hundred to get outside,” Luke scoffed, trying to help you sit up.

“Police are on their way!” you heard someone yell. You looked down the alley to see Lando himself, two bouncers standing next to him. You could have hit him at the moment, but because of your current injuries, you stayed put.

You watched as Boba delivered a few more heavy blows to Luke’s teammates, only two of his own men still standing, stumbling to catch up with him.

“You’re gonna regret this, Calrissian. You should’ve kept your ass inside like I told you to,” Fett shouted, backing up to exit the other end of the alley.

“I didn’t realize you were trying to kill Han outside of my bar,” Lando retaliated, watching Boba carefully as he walked backwards to his escape route.

“It didn’t concern you.”

When he stumbled in your direction, he couldn’t resist the urge to pull Luke up by his hair, the other man surprised by the sudden attack.

“And you,” Fett hissed, Lando and Luke’s remaining teammates now sprinting towards you, “I’ll teach you to interrupt a man’s business.”

“Do your worst. We’ll see where it gets you,” Luke replied, voice strained by the tugging on his hair. You watched as Luke took the opportunity to carefully study Boba’s face rather than fight back, and you were once again seized by an emotion that you couldn’t quite place.

Fett glared at him, pulling him higher up and then throwing him to the ground as hard as he could, the sound of Luke’s body smacking against the concrete making you wince. He groaned beside of you, and you weren’t sure if the blood pouring from his face was new or from the first altercation he’d had with him. With that, Fett escaped the alleyway, Lando and his men chasing after him.

“Luke!” Biggs shouted, running to where you all were.

“Leia,” Luke choked out, gasping for air as most of it had been knocked out of him, “Call Leia.”

Biggs nodded, and you heard sirens wailing in the distance, the red flashing lights of what you assumed was an ambulance illuminating the surrounding buildings. One of Luke’s other teammates stumbled over to check on him, and you knew instantly that he’d never seen such violence firsthand. It was Elias.

“Elevate his head,” you told him, struggling to pull yourself to your feet, “Find out where he’s bleeding.”

Elias nodded, shaky hands lifting Luke’s head and placing his coat underneath it. You stumbled towards Han, mustering all of your strength. Chewie was already at his side, having leaned him up against the wall so he was sitting upright.

“Han,” you gasped, falling to your knees next to him, “Can you hear me?”

When he didn’t say anything, you began to panic slightly, lifting his head to try to make him meet your eyes.

“Han,” you said again, and his eyes opened slightly as he tried to take in your appearance.

“Bleeding,” he managed to sputter out, “You’re bleeding. Your face.”

“You’re a whole lot worse, man,” you tried to joke, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from watering.

“I need a cigarette,” he slurred, and you leaned his head to the side slightly.

“Spit,” you told him, and when he did, you couldn’t even see any saliva—only blood. His eyes fluttered closed again, and you brushed his hair from his forehead gently.

“You have to stay awake, Han,” you told him sternly, keeping his head upright. Chewie gave you a concerned look. This was bad.

Luckily, the ambulance arrived then, parking at the end of the alley. A few paramedics rushed out and immediately identified Han as being in the most critical condition, lifting him onto a stretcher and taking him to the ambulance. Two more arrived soon after, and a few police cars were there as well. You watched as Lando reappeared, explaining the situation to the cops.

“You should go with Han,” you told Chewie. He frowned, looking you over and shaking his head.

“They probably won’t let me do it because they need to check me out first, but you’re fine. You should go. I’ll be okay.”

Reluctantly, Chewie nodded, pulling you into a gentle embrace before departing, running towards the ambulance Han was in. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling better knowing that your roommates would be there for each other. You saw Elias, Biggs, and some more paramedics help Luke into the back of an ambulance, and when he murmured something you couldn’t quite make out from this distance, Biggs came over to where you were standing, some paramedics behind him.

“They wanna look you over,” he explained, offering you his arm. You nodded, allowing yourself to be escorted away from the blood stained alleyway.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were going to be fine. You had broken your wrist from how you’d landed when you were thrown, and you had some serious bruising on your ribs, but overall, you were going to be fine. When you were cleared, you exited the back of the ambulance, only to find Luke sitting on a bench across from you.

“Shouldn’t you be in one of those ambulances?” you asked, taking in his appearance.

He had a black eye and a busted lip that had been stitched up, but he smiled at you regardless.

“Already got cleared. Got a concussion, a black eye, stitches, and my ribs are all bruised up, but nothing that requires going to the emergency room. How about you?”

You sat down next to him, sighing from the ache in your body, “My ribs are bruised too. And I broke my wrist. Wanna sign my cast later?”

“Of course,” he said happily, leaning back and looking at you, “But really, are you okay?”

“No,” you whispered, frowning as you stared at the sidewalk, “I thought I was about to watch him die.”

Luke sat up, taking your good hand into his own.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get out here sooner. Chewie came to see if you were with me, and then we went outside to look for you. Then we heard you scream. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him, squeezing his hand, “Glad I didn’t mess my throat up for no reason, I guess.”

He didn’t laugh, and instead he pulled you into a hug, his hand resting securely on the back of your neck. The safety of his embrace made your eyes water, and you melted into his touch.

“I was scared,” you whispered into his shoulder, allowing a man you hardly knew to hold you on a park bench in the middle of the city.

“Me too,” he told you, gently carding his fingers through your hair, “But it’s over, and we’ll have more answers tomorrow.“

You nodded, the words causing your mind to drift to Han. You pulled back and checked your phone.

4 new notifications

Chewie: he’s stable. in and out of consciousness, but he’ll be okay. doing x-rays soon.

Chewie: r u ok?? did u get ur injuries checked out?

Chewie: ok he has some broken ribs and a broken nose. pretty bad concussion too. they want to keep him overnight at least.

Chewie: i’m gonna stay tn. you should go home and get some sleep. you’ve been thru a lot. pls txt when u can to lmk ur ok

Texting a quick message back, you sighed, relieved that Han was going to be okay but still nervous about his injuries. The stress must have shown on your face, because Luke placed an arm around you, letting you lean your head on his shoulder.

“How is he?” he asked, rubbing your arm.

“At the hospital. Broken bones, but he’ll be okay, according to Chewie,” you said, allowing him to console you, “Thank you, by the way. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” he told you, “Setting my sister up with Han doesn’t really work if he gets killed in the back of an alleyway.”

You chuckled a little at that, glad for Luke’s ability to lighten the mood.

“But really,” he said seriously, “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Just then, a sleek, black car pulled into the parking lot, and none other than Leia crawled out of the passenger seat. Of course they had a personal driver.

“What the fuck,” she muttered, taking in the crime scene tape and Luke’s battered appearance before rushing over to you, “What happened?”

“Some guys tried to kill Han during his cigarette break,” you explained simply, the weight of your exhaustion setting in, making it impossible for you to offer more context.

“Han?” she asked, concern written all over her features, “Where is he?”

“Hospital. They’re keeping him overnight.”

“Shit,” she huffed, taking Luke’s face into her hands and evaluating the damage, “How did you get involved?”

“He and Chewie and his friends stepped in,” you told her, watching as she eyed the stitches on his lip, “Probably would’ve died if he didn’t.”

She sighed, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, seemingly unsure of what to do. She stared at you for a second, and then back at Luke, clearly distressed by his injuries. Her concern for him was sweet.

“Local news headlines are gonna pick this up,” she said, frowning, “I think Lando’s gonna talk to the press to make it clear that it was an attack and you came to the rescue, but I don’t know.”

“I don’t care,” Luke told her, waving his hand dismissively, “I don’t wanna worry about stuff like that right now.”

“I know,” she replied, sighing again, “Mom and Dad are gonna lose their shit—“

“I don’t care.”

“You should call them,” she urged, looking at his injuries again, “Someone else probably has by now. Have you checked your phone?”

“No,” he said, looking annoyed, “Have you?”

“No. I’ve been afraid of what they’ll say.”

“Will they be angry with you?” you asked, not sure what kind of reaction you should be anticipating from the Skywalker family.

“Probably with me for not filling them in,” Leia admitted, her voice weary.

“Probably with me for getting hurt,” Luke added.

“I bet they’ll want us to come home for the rest of the weekend.”

“Absolutely not,” Luke grimaced, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“Or they’ll send someone to check on you.”

“That’s such a waste of time,” he scoffed.

“Dad’s press tour is soon. The last thing you need while you’re recovering is for a bunch of delusional kids online to speculate about how you got hurt. They’ll probably find a way to romanticize it. You know how they are.”

“Leia,” Luke said sternly, though his tone was still gentle, “You know I don’t care about that stuff. They’ve been writing weird shit about me since I was sixteen. And if they publish something about me getting in a fight, that’s okay. It’s for me to worry about.”

“You’re right. Sorry,” she replied, sighing, “I don’t know where my head is at right now. I was so worried about you.”

Luke sighed too, standing from the bench to hug his sister.

“I’m fine, Leia,” he told her, and seeing how soft he was with her made your heart beat a little faster. He was a good brother.

“You should stay at our place,” Luke offered suddenly, meeting your eyes, “Since Han and Chewie won’t be home. I don’t want you to be there by yourself after tonight.”

You almost protested, feeling awkward invading their space like that, but then Leia spoke too.

“I think that’s a good idea. Especially with those men still on the loose,” she added.

“I don’t wanna intrude—“

“You won’t be. Please,” Luke interjected, looking at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Only if you’re sure it’s okay,” you reluctantly agreed.

“Of course,” he insisted, helping you stand, “It’s just me and Leia, so there’s nothing to stress about.”

You guys are basically aristocrats. How is that not stressful? you wanted to say, but you held your tongue, following them to the car where their driver was holding the door for you. The high quality leather seats felt alien to you when you sat down in the back with Luke. He must have noticed your discomfort, because he reached for your hand soon after. With little hesitation, you accepted, and he immediately tangled your fingers together, giving you one of his signature soft smiles. Even in the mostly dark vehicle, his eyes still shone brightly, and something about that fact made your cheeks flush.

You briefly wondered if you were getting too personally involved with the Skywalkers, but with Leia in the front seat telling the driver to take you all home and Luke in the back with his hand in yours, you knew that there was little you could do about it now.

29 notes · View notes

haveyouseenthisskeleton · 2 days ago

Note

S/O is cuddling or at least sitting down next to the main 10/12 (whichever you feel like or even other skeletons) and they starts petting their head, kinda doing papouilles (yes. The French thing. No clue how to say that in English)

Which would pur, or any other reaction honestly.

Bonus point if Skeleton also does papouilles back.

Thank u <3

Undertale Sans - You know how dogs' eyes sometimes roll back when you're petting their ears? That's Sans right now. You can tell he's struggling so hard to not fall asleep but that it's a battle he can't win lol. He's in paradise right now, and yes, if you hear very closely, you can hear something sounding like a purr. It's so faint it's barely noticeable though. Ten minutes later, he's snoring.

Undertale Papyrus - He's more and more leaning on you, and eventually ends up on your lap. Papyrus loves physical affection and he could never have enough. He's holding your arm and kinda drag it back to his head when you want to stop lol. No stopping. He could do this forever. Papyrus can gladly reciprocate too. If you try to leave, he starts to do it to keep you with him longer. Like I said before, he's good at manipulating people into giving him affection.

Underswap Sans - He's resigned to his fate, sighing every ten seconds or so. You are holding him tight by the spine, forcing him to stay by your side. He's kinda mad, and regularly tries to escape by trashing around and growling like a gremlin. PLEASE. HE'S BEGGING YOU. He has a ton of things to do today, he doesn't have time for this!

Underswap Papyrus - Honey melts on you, purring hard. He loves head massages and being touched by his S/O in general. He's clinging to you, slowly drifting to sleep. You can feel his soul calling yours regularly to check if you're still with him. It's rare to see him fully relax because he's so damn anxious all the time, but that's definitely one of these times. If you're lucky, you can hear him mumble in his sleep about how much he loves you.

Underfell Sans - He's a bit tense at first, not used to being touched like that, but the longer it lasts, the more he relaxes. Eventually, he cuddles against your little spoon style and keeps nuzzling your stomach, clearly happy. Red won't show too much his feelings, that's why he's hiding against you, but you can tell he likes that. He might even surprise you by doing it back when you least expect it, a few days later.

Underfell Papyrus - He's purring, mortified. He can't stop. He wants to stop, he desperately tries to stop, but his body isn't answering him. You found his weakest point, and you can practically do anything of him right now, as he's kinda paralyzed on your knees, entirely red. What kind of sorcery is this? He hates it! Well, no, don't stop, he loves it, but also stops it! His mind is confused!

Horrortale Sans - He's dead on your lap, purring like a tractor and desperately headbutting your chest for more. The hole in his skull itches all the time and that for sure soothes the pain a little. He whimpers from time to time, trying to have your hand to touch certain parts he wants. He's not moving for hours though, and he's HEAVY. But that's the life you chose. Willow will most likely come to stop him at some point because his purrs are making the house shake and he needs to focus lol.

Horrortale Papyrus - It depends if he's on a good day or not. On the good days, he will definitely purr and reciprocate, because that must be tiring to pet his head when he is way taller than you. On the bad days, he's just going to cry because you're too nice to him and he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

Swapfell Sans - Nox is desperate for affection and he will melt in your arms. That's a bit shocking the first time it happens, as he's pretty much clinging to you and burying his face against you. Doing this on his rough days can actually get him to confess a little about what's bothering him, so that's a good strategy to keep in mind.

Swapfell Papyrus - Aw, you're too nice to him. No, really, you're too nice. You can tell he's weirdly tense, and that's because he stuffed the couch with whoopie cushions and suddenly realized it might compromise his cuddling session. He keeps insisting to go cuddling in bed, which you start to find suspicious. Until you push a little too much on the couch and it suddenly farts in agony. Rus throws himself at your legs, begging you to keep petting him. You leave, offended, dragging Rus's body on the floor lol. Please, let him have a boobies session... He's begging you.

Fellswap Gold Sans - You're doing it all wrong. Sit down and let HIM massage you so he shows you how it's done. He expects you to learn from his gestures to reproduce it better on him next time. You're happy about the massage, but also offended? That's a weird feeling. Wine is definitely good at what he's doing though. He's extremely good at massaging people, despite his sharp claws.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's holding you in a death grip. You're not going anywhere. You're going to pet him for a very long time. He falls asleep quickly, but Coffee clings to you and refuses to let you go, hugging your entire leg. You're not going anywhere without him. He's purring loudly too, smiling in his sleep. He's so happy right now his soul is shining bright orange in the entire room.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

54 notes · View notes

erimeows · 2 days ago

Text

Drunk In Love

Most nights after work, Team Mustang carpools to the nearest bars.

Most nights, Riza Hawkeye also gets hit on.

It’s almost routine at this point. She’s young, beautiful, and carries herself with a calm, sharp confidence that turns heads the moment she walks in. Her military uniform, perfectly pressed, only adds to her appeal- there’s something about a service woman that draws men in like moths to a flame.

Roy hates it. He hates the way they look at her, the way they hover too close, hoping for a flicker of interest. He hates how they stumble over clumsy pick-up lines that never work and leer like they’ve earned the right to her time. She always rejects them, firmly enough but still kinder than they deserve, and it never affects her and Roy’s dynamic. But still, every time he watches it unfold, something ugly coils in his chest. His throat tightens, his jaw clenches, and his stomach knots itself into something unbearable. He wonders, when women flirt with him in this setting- or when he goes on ‘dates’ with his informants, does Riza feel the same way? And it’s a question that he quickly pushes to the side, because either answer comes with its own set of issues.

He can’t figure out why it all bothers him so much. Or maybe he already knows and just refuses to admit it.

Tonight is no different.

Riza sits beside him at the bar, her chair turned away from the counter so she can face the room- a habit born from years of vigilance. She never lets her guard down, not even here when they’re supposed to be relaxing. Meanwhile, Roy sits properly, facing forward, but his eyes keep flicking to her, drawn to her as if by force.

A man that’s not nearly attractive enough for someone as beautiful as Riza is standing on her left. He’s been ogling her from across the bar all night with a group of buddies and they stupidly encouraged him to hit on her even though she’s clearly far too good for him. The thought makes Roy sick with something he doesn’t want to dwell on.

“Hey, there, can I buy you a drink?” The man says, resting his elbow against the counter with a cocky grin and a hunger in his eyes that makes Roy’s blood simmer.

“No, thank you,” Riza turns him down immediately. Roy lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

Usually, this is where the men say they understand before turning and retreating like mutts with their tails tucked between their legs. But this one is a little drunk and his friends are across the crowded room, even more drunk than he is as they cheer him on.

“Oh, c’mon, just one drink!”

Riza shifts uncomfortably. Her shoulders tense. A tell that her ever-lasting patience is already starting to thin. The man’s second attempt is loud enough that the rest of the team notices, too. At this point, it just depends on who moves first. Maes is sitting on the other side of Roy, surveying the situation- and Havoc and Falman have both fallen silent to observe as well. Even Fuery and Breda, who are across the room, have stopped to look. But Riza, if pushed, will move before any of them will most of the time. She doesn’t really need them at all. Roy has seen her send men twice her size flying like they weigh nothing when they get a little too frisky.

“Really,” Riza says, her tone much sharper now. Her impassive gaze has turned into a sharp glare. “Leave me alone.”

But the man still isn’t deterred.

“Don’t be so uptight. Just one drink, and we can see where it goes from there.”

Riza’s hand drifts to her holster now, fingers twitching as she holds the man’s stare. Roy knows that she can easily handle this by herself, and would probably prefer to do so, but he finds himself emboldened enough by the jealousy (ah, so that’s what it is) that courses through his veins to intervene.

He stands from his barstool, placing a gloved hand on Riza’s shoulder. He glares at the man standing across from him, who glares right back. And Riza just watches them, stuck in between. Roy is so close to her now that he can smell her cologne- cologne, not perfume- wafting off of her, and in that moment, he finds himself wishing that they could be this close all the time.

“Back off of my lieutenant,” He finally says, the words coming out far more possessive than he means for them to.

The stranger raises an eyebrow and smirks right back at him.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll light you on fire,” And Roy won’t- probably- at least not with both Riza and Maes here to stop him from doing so, but the peculiar threat is enough for the guy to take a step back and cross his arms over his chest.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m The Flame Alchemist,” Roy answers, flashing a smirk. “Care to test out that title?”

Everyone in Amestris has heard of him, so of course, the man’s expression shifts the moment he hears the words leave Roy’s mouth. He takes a step back, wary.

“Whatever,” He grumbles before retreating back to the booth he came from, a scowl on his face.

Seconds later, he’s dragging his drunk friends from the booth and leaving the building.

“You didn’t have to do that. I was going to shoot at his feet if he kept that up,” Riza says, but she can’t hide the amused grin that takes over her face at just how fast the man retreated under Roy’s threats. “But thank you anyways.”

At that, Roy turns back to her, beaming at the approval. Embarrassing. Maes is sat next to him, laughing his ass off at the display, but Roy doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he meets Riza’s eyes and offers her a soft smile.

“Anything for my lieutenant.”

Riza turns back to her drink, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile stays, growing larger as she peeks at Roy from her peripheral. When their gazes meet again, she laughs.

And Roy swears, he’s never been so conflicted. On one hand, being around her just makes him so… Happy, as of late. On the other hand, he doesn’t like that he gets jealous over her. But of course, he’s been consumed by that selfish sort of feeling since they were kids. He wants to spend time with her, for them to stay by each other’s sides. He doesn’t want her to look or laugh at anyone else the way she does with him.

And he doesn’t want to think about it any further. So, he sits back down in his barstool and orders a shot, ignoring the way that he can feel her honey-hued eyes on him.

Whenever they go out, Roy never drinks too much. At least not when Riza is there, and while it’s mostly because he wants to keep his composure in public, it’s also for a more… Unsavory reason.

The first time he got drunk enough to stumble out the door of the bar- after four shots- Riza insisted on taking him home, and though the memories are foggy, he remembers enjoying them. So, the next time they went, he drank three shots- enough to be decently drunk but still able to remember some of what happened. After that, he started limiting himself to two, which is only enough to get him buzzed, but he always acts a little more drunk than he actually is in an attempt to get Riza to take him home.

And she always does, half-heartedly scolding him about how he drinks too much before helping him into the passenger’s seat of the car and driving him home. She’ll help him back out of the car, walking him into his house and tucking him into bed before inevitably leaving. It happens multiple times a week, to the point that Roy has problems going to sleep if she isn’t there to tuck him into bed.

It’s pathetic. It’s wrong. The morally righteous part of him feels bad for taking advantage of his lieutenant’s protective, caring nature to satisfy his emotional needs, but at the same time… He can’t help himself. He needs her around, and he’s too scared to simply ask her to come home with him. So he does this instead. And it’s not quite as good as the things he won’t admit he fantasizes about, but it’s enough for him.

Tonight is the same as many of the others- he drinks two shots, Riza doesn’t pay attention and assumes he’s had more, and he uses the minimal acting skills he has to convince her that he’s drunk enough that he can’t drive.

He’s perfected the act, especially lately; a slight slur in his words, a well-timed stumble, a heavy-lidded gaze that hints at inebriation but never quite crosses into absurdity. It’s enough to fool his subordinates, enough to warrant Riza’s steady hands on his body to keep him upright, enough to ensure that she’ll always be the one to take him home.

And so, the pattern continues.

“Alright, sir, let’s get you home,” Riza sighs at the end of the night, looping an arm underneath his armpit to secure his weight against her strong frame.

Breda snickers into his whiskey at the sight.

“Man, the colonel really can’t hold his liquor, can he?”

“Apparently not,” Falman sighs. “He’s been getting hammered every time we go out for a while now. Should we be worried?”

“I don’t know… I hope it’s not that deep, but it’s really not our business either way,” Fuery trails off with a small frown, glancing between Roy and Riza with worried eyes.

Havoc takes a drag off of his cigarette, exhaling a puff of smoke as he stares at Riza.

“You’re a saint, Hawkeye. If I had to drag his drunk ass home every night we went out, I’d quit. I don’t even know why you bother coming anymore, knowing that your night is going to end with a drunken bastard of a colonel in your passenger seat.”

Riza rolls her eyes at them, but says nothing as she guides Roy out of the dimly lit bar and towards her car. The drive is short and silent, just as it tends to be. Were it anyone else, Roy would be uncomfortable, but silence with Riza has always been easy in a way that makes his chest feel warm.

When they get to Roy’s house, Riza helps him out of the car like she always does. Roy feels a sad, nervous weight on his chest, knowing that their time like this together is about to end- that in just a few hours, they’re going to be back at work, in uniform, acting like a colonel and his lieutenant. Roy shouldn’t be so upset. That is what they are. But a terrible, undeserving part of him wants more. Wants her.

No, that’s a ridiculous thought. Roy immediately pushes it to the side as Riza leads him to his bedroom.

He shrugs off his jacket, kicks off his boots, and ‘stumbles’ into the bed. Riza follows close behind so she can gently drag his blanket up over his body and slip a pillow beneath his head.

“Stay?” Roy asks, and it’s a stupid question that slips out before he can think better of it- one that he tries not to think too hard about- but he knows that if it doesn’t go the way he wants it too, he can blame it on having had a little too much to drink like he always does.

“You know I can’t do that, sir.”

And he does know. If they were to come into work at the same time tomorrow, in the same car- if anyone were to see her car in his driveway, to see them leave his house together- they would get the wrong idea. But he needs to know if that’s really the only reason she’s refusing to stay.

“But do you want to?”

“You should know the answer to that by now,” Riza answers after a little too long. Roy has no idea how to interpret the words. She pauses there, standing in front of him like she wants to do something else, but then she’s turning for the door with a frown on her face. “Good night.”

The next day is a blur. From waking up painfully alone to having to trudge into work with a pounding headache, it’s been less than ideal. But, Riza is there, and that’s enough to make things a little better.

There is, however, something throwing him off. An unfamiliar scent that floats around the office as they near the end of their work day. It’s subtle at first, a ghost of a fragrance lingering in the air as Riza walks past his desk to check the mission reports stacked in front of him. He doesn’t notice it immediately, but when she pauses by the bookshelf, it hits him.

“Are you wearing a new cologne, lieutenant?” Roy asks before he even realizes the words have left his mouth.

It’s not bad, but it is different. Rather than the sort of sweet, subtle scent she wore before, this one is a little more harsh- a little more spicy.

Riza turns to face him, surprise flickering across her soft features.

“Yes, sir.”

He studies her expression, the slight tilt of her head, the way her brows lift just a fraction as if she hadn’t expected him to notice. He wonders if he’s gone too far, crossed some sort of unspoken boundary without realizing it. But he’s already said the words, and he doesn’t want this to become awkward, so he pressed on.

“I see,” He murmurs. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Thank you,” She smiles, and then looks over at the clock on the wall. “Ah, it’s past five. I should be getting home before Black Hayate gets impatient.”

Of course. She always leaves promptly at the end of the workday on nights that the team doesn’t go out.

“Of course. Have a good night, lieutenant,” Roy says with a smile, though he can’t hide the disappointment that runs through him when she turns and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

The scent of her cologne lingers.

Now, it’s just him and Maes.

A sigh falls from in between Roy’s lips, and before he can dwell too much on the odd, restless feeling twisting in his stomach, Maes clears his throat from the other side of the room.

“Huh,” Maes starts, looking over at Roy from where he’s sat at his desk. “I didn’t know she wore cologne.”

“She’s always worn cologne,” Roy explains. He holds a book on alchemy in his hands, skimming over the pages again and again, but the words don’t stick. He’s been so distracted by Riza lately that he can’t focus on much of anything aside from her. “Though it’s been the same one for the last few years… Armstrong Noir, I think? The change is unusual for her… I wonder if something happened.”

There’s a beat of silence before Maes speaks again, tone laced with something suspiciously close to amusement.

“Don’t you think it’s a little reckless to say stuff like that in the office?”

Roy’s brow furrows. He frowns, glancing up at Maes with confusion in his eyes.

“What are you getting at, Maes?”

“I mean that people might figure out that you two are, y’know, together.”

The words take a second to register. Roy blinks.

“...What?”

“You don’t need to lie to me, buddy,” Maes leans back in his chair, shooting a knowing look across the room. His hazel eyes have a mischievous glint to them. “I’m cool, I can keep a secret.”

Roy sits there, taking a moment to process the words, and then it clicks. Maes Hughes thinks that he and Riza Hawkeye are secretly dating. And the idea is so absurd (and delightful) that Roy laughs before responding to him.

“Maes…” Roy sets the book down with a huff, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his gloved thumb and pointer finger at the implication. Him and Riza, in a relationship. A romantic one. The idea isn’t horrible, which he doesn’t want to think about, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. “Lieutenant Hawkeye and I are not in any sort of romantic relationship.”

“Oh my God, you’re not lying,” Maes gasps, his eyes wide as he points at Roy with one finger. “You’re not making the face.”

“The face?”

“Hawkeye pointed it out to me once- you make this face when you lie, and now I can’t unsee it,” Maes explains. That’s something that Roy didn’t even know about himself. “Anyway, you two really aren’t together?”

“No. Why would you even think that?”

“I mean… Everyone thinks that.”

“Well, they have no reason to,” Roy pouts, trying to figure out how to change the subject. He doesn’t want to think about this right now. The attachment to Hawkeye that he’s been dealing with as of late has been inconvenient enough. “What, a guy can’t have a female adjutant without them being in some sort of relationship? What a sexist viewpoint- from someone who has a daughter, nonetheless. I’m disappointed in you, Maes.”

“Laying it on a little thick there,” Maes grins. “Feeling guilty?”

“Of course not. I have nothing to feel guilty about,” Roy says, the words low, but it’s not true. He has plenty to feel guilty about, especially in regards to her. “But you need to get that idea out of your mind. My relationship with Lieutenant Hawkeye is strictly professional… And friendly at most.”

“You’re making the face now,” Maes snickers.

“Shut up.”

“Dude. You know what brand of cologne she wears by name.”

“We’ve been working together for a long time.”

“Okay, what brand of cologne do I wear?” Maes demands. Roy opens his mouth to answer, only to realize that he can’t, because he has no idea what brand of cologne Maes wears. “That’s what I thought.”

“I see her more often than I see you, Maes,” He tries to justify it, even as he sits there with the cogs turning in his head. Maes has a point. This doesn’t make sense. “It doesn’t mean anything. When you work with someone every day, you learn those things about them over time.”

“You share your lunch with her every single day.”

“That doesn’t mean anything either,” Roy argues. Riza never brings her own lunch and gets so busy that she doesn’t go to the cafeteria to buy one- of course he shares his. It’s a decent thing to do. “I’d do the same for you if you forgot to bring yours.”

“Okay, how about when we were out at the bar last night?”

Roy’s cheeks flush with embarrassment as he thinks back to that idiotic man he threatened. Not that the guy didn’t deserve it for continuing to push after Riza told him no the first time, but perhaps he didn’t need to intervene. He definitely wouldn’t have done it for anyone else. It’s been gnawing at him all day.

“I was just being helpful,” Roy argues again, his cheeks turning bright red.

“I think threatening to light the poor guy on fire for creeping on ‘your’ lieutenant is a little more than helpful, Roy.”

“She clearly wasn’t interested- he just wasn’t getting the hint. It’s not like he was respectfully asking her to dinner- he was ogling her all night like a creep and the way he spoke to her was deplorable. Plus, I was drunk.”

“You were not drunk, you hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol at that point. And if he was really bothering her, she would’ve shot at him.”

“She shouldn’t have to do that,” Roy sighs, holding his head in his hands.

“You clearly want to take care of her,” Maes continues, standing up from the desk he’s sat at and walking towards Roy. “And if the way you fake being drunk to make her take you home every time we hit the bar is anything to go by, you want her to take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t like where this conversation is going. Doesn’t like that Maes has clearly seen through his ‘drunk’ act. Has Riza noticed, too? The thought terrifies him as he gets up and paces around the room, trying to find things to keep himself busy with to no avail.

“I don’t fake being drunk. We all know I have a bit of an alcohol problem.”

“You know what else I know?” Maes walks up to him now, standing right in front of his shorter frame and crossing his arms over his chest. “That it takes you five shots to get drunk, not the two that you limit yourself to when we go out with her.”

“I’m not having this argument with you, Maes,” Roy sighs, pushing past the man so he can go straighten the already-straight books on the bookshelf. So he’s been caught. Hopefully Riza doesn’t know. And hopefully Maes stops prying. “You’re reading too much into things, as always.”

“Well, whatever. But I’m totally talking about this interaction in my best man speech when the two of you get married… Eventually. Hell, I may be dead by the time you decide to man up and confess,” The words make Roy frown, and he thinks to speak up to scold Maes for saying so morbid, but before he can, the other man is grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “I’ve gotta get home and make dinner.”

“Yeah, alright. See you later,” Roy sighs as the ramifications of this conversation run through his head. The last thing he needs is for anyone else to find out about this. “Wait. Maes?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Don’t tell anyone about this conversation.”

“Aw, what? It’s relevant to the betting pool!”

“The fucking what?”

“Never mind! Bye!”

With that, Maes is rushing out the door.

And Roy? He stands there, stunned, heart hammering, mind racing.

Because damn it, Maes Hughes is right, just like he’s right about everything. Because the idea, the feeling, the truth- it all finally clicks into place.

He’s in love with his lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye.

Days pass. Roy doesn’t know what to do with his feelings, so for now, he doesn’t do anything. He shoves them down to the best of his ability, ignores them, and acts like things are normal between him and his lieutenant. Her behavior hasn’t changed, so either she has no idea or she knew all along. Roy doesn’t know which is worse. Like most things regarding Riza these days, he doesn’t want to think about it.

They’re out again, at a different bar this time. They tend to bar hop often. Their entire team is with them, and Ross and Brosh have even come along. Armstrong is with them, too, parading his subordinates around the bar and giving them tips to flirt ‘that have been passed through the Armstrong family line for generations’- whatever that means.

But all Roy can focus on is Riza. She’s sitting next to him, as always, facing the room with a club soda in hand. He’s sitting next to her with two empty shot glasses in front of him. The bartender had offered another, but Riza had refused for him, citing his blushing face as a clear indication that he was already more than drunk.

If only she knew.

It seems that they’re both tired, because they don’t drag things out like they tend to. After an hour of being there, Riza loops an arm underneath his and guides him out of the dimly lit bar.

Once they’re in the car, Roy lets his head rest against the cool glass of the passenger-side window, letting out a tired sigh. The city streets pass by in a blur of pale lights and dark shopfronts. The warmth of Riza’s presence beside him, as always, is both a comfort and a torment.

Tonight, though, something is different.

She’s too quiet.

And they’re usually quiet when they’re alone like this, but the silence that consumes the car tonight as she drives is tense. The air between them is heavy.

About halfway to his house, she speaks.

“I know you’re not drunk. You can stop,” She says, and Roy doesn’t respond at first, too overwhelmed. Has he really been that obvious? Has she known the whole time? Or did she only figure it out tonight? What could he have possibly done to tip her off? “Seriously. I’m not stupid.”

“Alright, then,” Roy stiffens, sitting up straight and crossing his arms over his chest. He refuses to open his eyes, too terrified to look at her and see the expression that’s on her face. “Guess I’ve been caught.”

“Damn right you have,” Riza responds, and there’s an edge to her voice that cuts deeper than the initial accusation did.

He can’t tell what it is. Anger, maybe? Whatever it is, it’s scary, so he decides to lie.

“So what? I’ve been exaggerating a bit so I don’t have to drive home,” He grumbles as he tries his best to ignore the horrible pounding of his heart against his ribs and the compounding anxiety-induced nausea that has bile threatening to surface in his throat. “I’ve done worse.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

Silence again. Roy wills himself to force his eyes open so he can look at her. Her hands remain steady on the wheel. He expects her face to be tense, drawn tight with righteous fury, but instead she’s… Sad. Blinking rapidly, trying to keep tears from welling up in her honey-hued eyes. Struggling to suppress a frown.

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“I wish you’d just admit that you want to spend more time with me,” Riza admits, her voice so quiet that Roy almost struggles to decipher the words. “And I wish you’d admit that you…”

“That I what?”

“That you want me.”

Roy doesn’t know what to do now. He could try to deceive her again, though that didn’t seem to work the first time. He could play it off, turn it into a joke, flash a grin and act like it had all been some sort of fucked up game. But the weight in her voice, the way she’s looking at him with such sorrowful eyes when she pulls up at a stop, tells him that none of that will work. Not this time.

“So what?” He asks, to which Riza raises an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“What if I told you that I did want you? What would you say?”

“Sir-”

“Forgive me for asking,” Roy shakes his head. This was foolish. Part of him wonders if he should’ve just doubled down on the lie. If he’d tried hard enough, if she would’ve forgotten about this entire thing. “If this goes… Poorly, we can go back to pretending I’m drunk.”

“No. I’m tired of pretending.”

“So…” Roy starts, drumming his fingers against the door handle. “How long have I been embarrassing myself for?”

“I figured it out after I skipped one of the team’s outings to spend time with Black Hayate,” Riza explains. “Maybe after the second or third time? I called Havoc to make sure he took you home like I’d asked, only for him to say you were able to drive yourself home. I put together rather quickly that you would only get ‘drunk’ enough to need an escort when I was there.”

And Roy is embarrassed. So, so embarrassed that he’s been doing this for god knows how long, and she’s known pretty much the entire time. He’s been making a full of himself, and worst of all, he’s been hurting her. He can tell just by the sorrow that drips from every word she says.

“So you’ve known for a while.”

“Sure, but… I would’ve figured it out eventually. You have tells. I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m sorry.”

Riza parks the car and turns to face him.

“I don’t know why you thought you had to lie to me. You could have asked. I would’ve said yes,” Riza turns off the ignition, shoving her keys in the pocket of her coat but still holding his gaze. Roy is so humiliated that he doesn’t want to meet her eyes, but he also can’t bring himself to look away. Her admission feels like pure relief, he should be happy- and he is- but most of all, he feels guilty for dragging this out for so long. “I would have spent the time with you if you had just asked, Roy. And it makes me wonder… Are you ashamed?”

Roy raises an eyebrow at that. He’s ashamed of a lot of things; himself, the things they’ve done, the people he’s killed, the way he’s had to carry himself to advance in his military career, the scars he’s left on people- on Riza- along the way.

“Of what?”

“Of your feelings for me.”

“No, it’s not that,” Roy whispers, shaking his head. “It’s never been that.”

“Then why?”

“Because I didn’t want to put myself in a position where you could reject me like you reject everyone else,” The answer is followed by a sharp exhale as he runs a hand through his tousled raven locks. “Because I didn’t want to ask for something I wasn’t sure I deserved.”

The silence stretches between them again, thick with the tension that’s been building for years; with the thousands of words left unsaid.

“You’re not like everyone else,” Riza sighs. “I would’ve said yes to you.”

“I asked the other night and you left anyway,” Roy argues, to which Riza glares back at him.

“I said no because you were doing it under the pretense that you were drunk. I’m not going to be vulnerable in front of you by saying yes when you won’t give me the same respect.”

“Will you spend the night with me this time, Riza? Everything’s on the table now, isn’t it?” Roy questions, and when she looks back at him with uncertainty, he continues- desperate to get her to stay after waiting for so long. “We can lie. Say that I drank so much that I made myself sick, and you just stayed to take care of me.”

“Of course I’ll stay,” Riza leans in, caressing his face with one hand and leaning in to press a soft kiss against Roy’s lips. When she pulls away, she’s smiling, her cheeks dusted bright red, and Roy swears he’s never been so happy. “Let’s go inside.”

24 notes · View notes

basedstoutland · 3 hours ago

Text

I know they already have a lot of propaganda but...I like them. So, you know how the existing propaganda mentions that they fought back against two stronger gods that did hate each other? The way they fight is that one of them enters a rift they create together and fights a bunch of the cloned fighters. And unlike the official fights also mentioned, he (should specify that it is Master hand fighting here) has 700 HP....when a normal fight, he has 300 HP give or take depending on how high the Classic Mode difficulty is. He's also more noticeably fast and hits harder than in said fight as well. The best part? This whole section is playable. You get to play as a long time boss of the series for the first time outside of glitches or cheats and it's as glorious as it sounds. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXRhUL1vf34 (Ahhhh...it's been over 6 years...I'm allowed to use what's technically spoilers here now.) Personally, this moment alone makes made how tedious World of Light felt entirely worth it, even if it was just for less than ten minutes. I bring this up as well because they are implied to be equal in power, which means Crazy Hand most likely can also pull off feats of this power. Not only that, but between the animations in regular battle, what happens directly after you free them in World of Light (sadly, no video as short as the fight one for this), and the animations they have in Smash for Wii U's Special Orders mode shows how much character they were able to give these Hand shaped gods despite being...well, hand-shaped. Also Crazy Hand's debut in the fights back in Melee was essentially him getting tagged in after his other half's HP was reduced to half...and that feels like another thing that points towards them caring about each other and all that. I could go on <3

Round 1

Characters' info under the cut

Plagg (wiki)

Domain: Destruction

Master Hand and Crazy Hand (MH wiki, CH wiki, TV Tropes link [this one includes all smash bosses])

Domains: Creation and Destruction

Propaganda:

Though never technically stated to be divine in lore and flavor text, they do hold the titles of 'Manifestation of the Creative Spirit' and 'Manifestation of the Destructive Spirit' respectively and it is outright stated that Master Hand created and is the master the world the Smash games take place in. Although he embodies destruction, it can only be assumed that Crazy Hand also had some sort of role in the world's creation- after all, in order for something to be refined, edges must be cut away, or destroyed, otherwise it'll just be a massive mess. (though yeah, some of that is speculative due to the games not actually giving us THAT much information about them besides the bare minimum) They also work incredibly well together (even doing a fistbump together!), despite their aspects making you think they'd hate one another- they even work together to help take down even more powerful gods who are opposite aspects who do hate eachother. It helps that I've seen at least take (I believe it was a tv tropes page?) say CH represents destruction for the sake of change. They're also...very freakin silly together. In the fights you can have against them (at this point implied to be recreational since that same fight against the stronger gods implied that they were way, waaaaay stronger than when you regularly fight them) some of their combo moves can get silly. They take advantage of being hand shaped (oh by the way, they're giant talking hands if the names weren't indicative of that) as one of their moves is coming together to form a shadow puppet-like form of a dog and make barking noises that stun you if you get hit by them. I also just...think they're neat. Their designs are also interesting- at least in Ultimate, since the back of the wrist has a purple space-like pattern inside it. I could probably talk about every aspect of them I could think of, whether it be their implied kayfabe when others think they're just evil or their comradery- many people headcanon them (since like I said, we get barely any official information about them) to be actual brothers.

#polls #poll propaganda #super smash bros.#master hand #crazy hand #youtube

37 notes · View notes

beanghostprincess · 1 year ago

Text

Luffy not knowing about Zoro promising Sanji to kill him if he ever ends up losing himself makes me go feral because that's something they can only know about. Because Zoro's respect for life and death goes beyond anything, and Sanji knows he understands. Sanji knows that if somebody has to kill him, it's him.

And I don't even think it's because Sanji assumes Zoro's opinion of him is hatred and it would hurt less for him to do this, but because Sanji knows only Zoro would be able to treat the promise as it is. Because he would put Sanji's wishes before any feelings he has for him. It's not that Zoro doesn't care, but I think he respects people's ideals and decisions to the extent of being able to kill Sanji if he so desires.

That being said, he'd do it if there's no other way to fix it. If it's either dying or living as an emotionless machine, which is the same as dying for Sanji, Zoro would fulfill his promise. And there is just... Something about Luffy not knowing. Their captain. The man they're devoted to the most as if he were their God. Luffy doesn't know. It's something only the captain's wings are aware of and the thought of these two keeping this from Luffy until the end is just insane. Not even trying to make it romantic here, but the bond and respect these two have for each other is crazy.

Maybe it's the poetry of it all, too. Somebody like Zoro, who has looked at Death in her face multiple times and said "no", ending Sanji's life, who wants to give in to death to not experience a fate worse than death for him.

#bean posting zosan this is so rare and weird don't get used to it sweeties #kind of tired of people jumping to extremes with these two btw like-#they don't hate each others but they're also not best friends-- respect is something they value even more than those things #they're not good for my mental health they make me go insane #this wasn't meant to be in a shippy way but idk if you wanna see it as romantic you do you bc it could def be #it depends on my mood #i consider myself a zosan shippers on random days #you could also say sanji thinks zoro doesn't give a fuck about him and that's why he tells him bc we know this guy's self-worth is awful #but i also like to think it's because zoro's views on life and death are exactly what sanji needs #luffy would try to look for a way to fix this and they others wouldn't be able to do it tbh #i mean if it ever got too serious i think luffy could do it but do you really think sanji's gonna make him go through that #if zoro has to die he wants to die by luffy's hand but if sanji has to die he wants to die without involving their captain #idk if that makes sense okay i haven't slept at all tbf #one piece #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan

340 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 9 months ago

Text

i have... ✨Danyal Al Ghul Headcanons✨ but specifically for my yaelokre danyal oneshot

There's also the tumblr post here but I recommend the link in the title because its the ao3 version, and that one is edited and has some stuff in it that's not in the tumblr post, and will be the version I'm using.

So for summary: this Danyal is also from a Demon Siblings Au where Danny is five years older than Damian. However, things turned out a bit differently, and Danny and Damian had a fantastic relationship with one another. Danny loved music and regularly came up with songs to sing to Damian with. Specifically the folk band Yaelokre's EP "Hayfields" (seriously go fucking listen to it its sooo good. Harpy Hare is the second song but its my favorite. Special shoutout to @gascansposts for introducing the band to me)

He falls off a train when he's twelve and Damian is seven while the two of them and Talia are on mission. He ends up with magically induced amnesia and wakes up in Arkansas while the Fentons are on their yearly Divorce-iversary visit to Aunt Alica, and since he can only remember his name, he ends up being taken into their care.

---------------

Yaelokre Danny has the same facial scar as Things in Threes Danyal, since he was initially another version of him where things turned out better. I'm debating on whether or not I should take it away however, and give him a different scar (maybe from when he fell off the train?), just because the scar is a pretty key identifier for Ti3 Danyal.

-----------------

Danny frequently visits Aunt Alicia in Arkansas! Well, only after he gets settled in and stuff. He doesn't really like the city that much and prefers the countryside where Alicia lives. I know she lives in a cabin but I'm changing it to a farm, so she puts Danny to work and gets him to help her.

I don't want to confine his hobbies to only being star stuff, because people tend to have more than one hobby and I feel like it reduces him to one-dimensionality, so he likes to garden, and learns guitar. His room becomes filled with plants, and he turns their roof into a rooftop greenhouse right below to OPS Center.

He has a complex relationship with the weapons from his past, but he's not... like... appalled by it? When he finds his weapons in the Fenton attic all he thinks is that they're his weapons, and he starts carrying a knife on him afterwards. Essentially he becomes fascinated with weaponry because its one of the few physical ties he has to his past, and while he's not training like he is in the League, he allows his strong muscle memory to guide him through his katas.

Danny likes climbing things. This causes Problems For Everyone Else.

----------------

Danny was not the "kinder Al Ghul" in the League. His kindness extended to his brother and family, and that's it. To everyone else he had high expectations out of them, and the pride you'd expect from the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul and trained by its top members. While he wasn't like, unnecessarily cruel or anything, he wasn't merciful either.

This transfers post-train fall as him coming off as no-nonsense and unforgiving. He's not fond of the idea of giving people second chances, and is skeptical of the idea. He's disgusted by incompetency and views it as an unforgivable offense, especially if he thinks that the person should know better, although he's not sure why. Some egocentrism for the soul.

He doesn't like being touched by anyone who isn't family, and gets irritated when anyone grabs him or holds onto him for extended amounts of time. Dash has gotten hit so many times. With Jack Fenton's tendency for abrupt physical affection, it doesn't make it any better. I'd argue it'd make it worse because Danny doesn't want to be touched more often than not.

------------------

Danyal had a red scarf in the League that he wore on his last mission, it came off before he fell off and caught itself on the roof. Damian still has it and took it with him to Wayne Manor. He's got it locked in his room and takes it out when he's alone and missing Danny the most. One time he forgot to put it away before leaving his room, and Dick was visiting the manor for something and found it. Damian found him holding it and freaked out.

Dick could only say "I've never seen you wear this, Damian, this is really pretty--" before Damian shoved him to the floor and stole it out of his hands, before screaming at him; "Don't touch this! You don't ever touch this! This is mine! You hear me!?"

It caused such a commotion that the rest of the family present came to see what the fuss was about, and Damian kicked them all out of his room. Dick is the one brother Damian's the closest with, so the fact he reacted so strongly shocked them all.

This is likely what leads to the "Danyal" conversation.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #danyal al ghul au #yaelokre danny #yaelokre danyal al ghul #the yaelokre danny post didn't really go into him interacting with other people but i'm trying to figure out his personality post amnesia #just know this: he's not canon danny. im spitefully refusing to make him a Cookie Cutter of canon danny because the idea pisses me off lmao #he's complex and confused and morally gray even with the amnesia bc memories aren't stored in one part of the brain they're stored #in different parts depending on the memory and muscle memory exists and danny might not actively remember the things that shaped him but hi #body does. and somewhere deep in his mind so does his brain. his memories weren't destroyed theyre locked away in a place where his active #conscious can't reach. plus its magic amnesia and i have comic AND cartoon realism on my side.#danny's personality from the league doesn't get challenged that much by the fentons because danny's learning this about himself just as muc #as they are. Jazz can't “Fix” what's wrong with him when neither of them know it and Danny is always the first to figure it out and then #keeps it to himself. Also. Jazz has a fucking life? she's not the family therapist she has friends and hobbies even if we the viewers don't #see it. But also i just really deeply despise the idea that Jazz “fixes” danny's league issues just by existing and being the therapist #because it waters her down into a one-dimensional character who only exists in the context of providing emotional support and life advice t #danny. also therapy only works on someone that's actively trying to change. otherwise its just psychoanalyzing and people tend to hate #being psychoanalyzed without consent. which as a result may have them refuse help. anyways point is: i believe that growth is slow and #complex and danny would hide a lot of the stuff he discovers about himself because if there's one thing he still retains from being an #assassin. it's how to hide. he likes jazz but there are some things you just hide from people.#damian also told dick to “keep his filthy hands off his things”. which was also a shock because it sounded something he'd say more to tim #damian was distraught the entire time.#okay thats all i have for now.

105 notes · View notes